undeadfanstoriesfandomcom-20200214-history
Dead Frontier/Issue 102
This is Issue #102 of Dead Frontier, titled Back to the Start. This is the final issue of Volume 17. Issue 102 - Back to the Start The sun has nearly completed its descent in the sky when Adam, Cole, and Jake emerge from the woods and onto a nearby road. Cars fill the street, too many to count, the majority of them in inoperable conditions. It’s obvious they’re even farther from the city now, with nothing but trees behind them and an empty field across the road. It may have been a popular route to escape from the city, but one that was an obvious failure. Adam can’t decide if the sheer number of cars here is a good thing or bad--will they find a decent one quickly, just because there’s so many, or will they spend useless time searching? By this time, Cole’s eyes begin to close from exhaustion, but he’s stayed awake this long, so he wills himself to keep it up until their return to the hotel. He’s still using Adam for support as they walk, Cole’s arm around his shoulder. “Come on, man, just a few more steps. That’s it,” Adam says. They stop, and Adam helps Cole onto the asphalt. Cole winces, sits, and leans against a nearby dark-blue sedan. He tries to adjust his body to get a little comfortable, but he’s burdened with sharp, unbearable pains radiating from his knee whenever he moves. “Jake, start seeing if any of ‘em have keys. Hurry up.” Jake nods and begins peeking into dusty driver’s side windows. He swiftly moves from one car to the next. Adam, though, briefly focuses his attention on Cole, crouching down in front of him. He surveys Cole’s face; his condition has worsened rapidly during their journey, a fact obvious to Adam just by his look. The cold, glassy look in his eyes, his ashen face, eyelids half shut, mouth parted just slightly as he takes in quick, painful breaths. “You’re doing good. I just need you to stay awake for me, okay?” Adam says with an assuring nod. “How’s the leg feel?” “Like...I’m gonna...die,” Cole says. “You’re not gonna die. And your leg’s gonna be fine, too,” Adam says firmly. “I’m gonna go help out Jake. We’ll be done real soon, so you just...you stay put.” Cole nods as Adam disappears in Jake’s direction. Now that any sense of danger, for now, has gone, Cole can finally let himself relax. Or, relax as much as he can in his state. The pain has been so constant, he’s almost able to ignore it, but his mind still races. He’s still trying to acknowledge the fact that he isn’t dead yet. That his entire kneecap is blown out. That, besides Adam and Jake, he doesn’t know who’s retreated from the camp safely. That the guilt he feels right now, for destroying something as precious as the life of a friend, will burden him forever, he's sure. Suddenly, his eyes snap open and he realizes he dozed off. He rubs his eyes, mumbles encouragements to himself to stay awake. But it's difficult, and he finds his eyelids feeling heavier and heavier as time passes. Until he hears something. It's almost like a rumble, and he turns his head to the left. His vision is a little blurred, and the cars blocking the way make seeing even more difficult. He forces himself to scoot to the end of the car. He peeks his head around the back bumper. Far down the field on the other side of the road, Cole can see a wall of them: infected, a near-stampede making their way toward them. His eyes widen, and his previously slowing heartbeat quickens in pace. He assumes his position from before and calls out to Adam, which comes out as nothing but a weak, half-hearted yell. Adam is inspecting another car, his face near the window, when he hears his name. Something’s wrong. He lifts his head, ready to turn to Cole, but he freezes. “That’s bad…” Jake says, looking in the same direction as Adam, directly at the herd. “No shit. Keep looking,” Adam says. He rushes to Cole and keeps his eye on the approaching herd as he does, only stopping when he reaches him. “Did you find a car?” Cole asks as Adam lifts him to his feet. His words come out slow and slurred. Barely conscious, Adam realizes. “No, not yet. Still working on it. But we gotta start walking, just in case we don’t.” “I’m…” Cole begins, but he feels a sudden surge of dizziness and squeezes his eyes shut, a trivial attempt to get his bearings. “...slowing you down,” he finishes. “You are, that’s true. But I don’t care.” “You’ve gotta--” “What you’ve gotta do is more walking and less talking. You can barely do either, so how about we focus on one?” Farther down the road, Jake alternates between peeking into car windows and looking up at the herd, which is close enough now that he can hear it. “All these fucking cars, not one key…” he says to himself. The effort, along with the long journey through the woods, has exhausted him, not to mention the frustration and added pressure of the infected. He picks up his pace, a curse escaping his lips at each empty car. Eventually, he sees something out of the ordinary. One of the windows is cracked, and is covered with what he assumes is blood, instead of a sheet of dust. He leans his face in closer, squinting, until he sees a body in the seat. He can make out a few details of the body; rotted flesh, patches of skin falling off, a mouth of black and yellow teeth. And then, a pair of keys in the ignition, dangling invitingly. He pulls at the door handle once, then a few times more in a fit of denial as he realizes its locked. He kicks the door in his anger. Only then does the rotted face smash through the window, breaking the already-cracked glass and reaching out to Jake. A few shards of glass stick out of its face as a result, and Jake jumps back with a quick screech. He glares at it, a bit angry at himself for assuming it was really dead. But he moves on from the scare quickly, grabbing the infected by the head and pulling it forwards just a little. He brings the head down, then smashes its face on the car door a few times, leaving a dark red stain. He finishes the job quickly, opens the door, and lets the infected tumble out of the seat and onto the asphalt. As he’s bent over, moving the body away, he looks up toward Adam and Cole, moving slowly toward him, but it’s as fast as they’re able. “This one has a key?” Adam asks as he finally reaches the vehicle. “Yeah. Gotta t-test it out, though,” Jake says. After the body’s been moved a few feet away from the car, he hops into the passenger seat. Adam gets Cole into the back, then takes over the front seat. He twists the keys in the ignition, only to hear an awful sputtering sound from the engine that quickly fades out. “Are you fucking serious?” Adam mumbles. He tries again. Same result. “D-dude, they’re like--right th-there,” Jake says, his stare fixated out the window. He estimates they have a few minutes to get this car working, somehow, based on the herd’s distance. But, is that ample time? He doesn’t know. “Okay. Car, we just need you to start. That’s it. ‘Cause I’m not dying today,” Adam says. “Is there gas?” “Yeah. Tank’s about half full. More than enough.” “Guys…” Cole says. A few of the faster infected have made their way to the front, as Adam’s futile attempts at getting the car started appear to have alerted them. They end up colliding with the cars that line the edge of the road and find some difficulty in getting around them, also buying Cole, Adam, and Jake precious time. "It's not working," Jake says, trying to keep the anxiety in his voice hidden. The sputtering of the engine keeps repeating as Adam turns the key again, and again. A large clump of infected are pushing against the cars that line the road, and their strength in numbers has begun to tilt the vehicles over, but only slightly. A few squeeze through the gaps between bumpers, crawl over one another, losing rotten limbs in the process, just to reach their car. Adam’s on the verge of giving up and just tossing the keys across the car. He calms himself down and takes a few deep breaths, as three infected slam onto the passenger side, clawing at the window. Adam then turns the keys in the ignition. Three more hit the car, then four, then five, then nearly ten. Jake squeezes his eyes shut as the old, dirty glass that makes up his window begins to give in. The engine coughs, making the same sound as before, on the verge of death. The car begins to tilt from the power of the twenty-five or so infected. Adam sighs, closes his eyes, and slowly sets his head against the steering wheel. But then, the coughing of the engine halts, and instead if the engine cutting off completely, the sound turns into a faint hum. "Holy shit--is it w-working?!" Jake asks. Adam sits up straight, hands on the wheel. He presses down on the gas, and they inch forward, only stopped by the car in front of them. He swings left instead, and it feels like the car nearly topples, but they regain balance quickly. He has to nudge another car a few inches out of the way, but he makes it to the small strip of grass between the woods and the road. It's not much space to ride on, but it's enough that Adam can make about fifty meters of separation between them and the infected before another set of cars blocks their way. Adam turns in his seat to look out the back window and sees the infected still on their trail. But it's enough of a gap that he can take his time, squeezing through the small spaces between cars, pushing them out of the way if he needs to. ---- Adam drives for a while. The car’s headlights are busted; Adam can barely see a few feet in front of him. He drives slow, swerving between the infected that linger along the road. He glances to his right when he feels a tap on his shoulder. “Maybe we should stop,” Jake says quietly. “No,” Adam responds immediately. “No. We’ve gotta get back soon. As soon as possible. His leg might get infected or something.” “It’s not safe driving out h-here like this. We’re drawing t-too much attention to ourselves. Or w-we might crash into s-something.” “He needs a doctor. Look at him.” Jake turns to take a look at Cole. He can barely see in the limited lighting, but he can make out the piece of fabric tied to his knee, which is now drenched in blood. His labored breathing is the only sound in the car. “But...dude, we barely know w-where the hell we’re going,” Jake says. “Then we’ll find a way to get there. We’re not stopping.” “I’m just s-saying--” Adam presses on the brakes. When the car makes a full stop, he turns to Jake. “I don’t think you’re really understanding me. I’m not taking that risk with him. Because I’m not losing both of them on the same day. That’s the last thing that’s gonna happen. So we’re not taking a little rest stop; we’re driving until we get back, okay?” Jake swallows hard, shifting his gaze until he looks down at his lap. “Y-yeah. Sorry,” he mutters. “And--uh--I never said, but I’m s-sorry about Billie, dude. It...it sucks.” Adam sighs. He closes his eyes and rubs them for a few seconds. When he opens them up again, they're moist. He places his grip back on the steering wheel, staring out at the road as he composes himself silently. It takes him a few seconds, but he’s able to drive again. It’s a mostly silent ride. Jake doesn’t say a word the rest of the way, for fear of irritating Adam even more. Jake takes a few quick glances at him along the way. He’s tense, unmoving, eyes directed only at the road. Cole only stirs a few times, but his movements become less frequent the closer they get: the customary sound of rustling as he tries to adjust himself and then a quick grunt of pain. The peacefulness of the ride puts him at ease, though, and the Hyatt’s two towers come into view just as he closes his eyes. ---- Cole wakes up, opening his eyes slowly and using his forearm to cover them from the unexpectedly bright light. It takes him a second to realize he’s in the infirmary, lying in one of the beds. He looks down to observe his injury; he’s clad in a pair of shorts, and his right knee is wrapped tight in clean, white bandages. There’s no pain anymore, but he’s aware that won’t last for long. He finally shifts his gaze somewhere else. To his left. He’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed her before--maybe his disoriented state from just waking up, he guesses--but Lucy sits in a chair to the left of the bed. She’s asleep, arms crossed, her head resting on her shoulder. He smiles as an amusing idea comes to his head. He sits up just a little, supporting himself on his elbow. He leans his face in close to hers and lets out a quick, “Boo.” She gasps, waking up instantly, and scowls at the mischievous look on his face. “Why the hell--” she says, hitting him on the arm. “You’re hitting a cripple. Really shouldn't do that,” he says, but his voice is low, sounding a little exhausted. “I’m pretty sure you’ll live.” She yawns and rubs the sleep from her eyes as he lies back down, getting himself comfortable again. "Thanks for waking up, finally." “What time is it?” “Uhh…” she says, turning around to look at a clock on the far wall. She squints and says, “3 AM.” “3 AM? I slept the entire day?” “Most of the day, yeah.” “I did? How long have you been here?” “Since...midnight, maybe. Chloe said she thought you’d be up by morning...so I waited.” “Hm. That's pretty funny." "Yeah? How? "I kind of remember you...breaking things off, so I wouldn’t really expect you to be here.” “Wanna know something else that's funny?" she asks. He raises his eyebrows, signaling her to continue. "I’ve been thinking about that. And I regret it a lot more than you think.” He's honestly surprised, but from the look on her face he can tell she really means it. “Oh. Uh...don’t. Because, honestly, you had every reason to. I was trying to deal with a lot of things, and so were you, and I just--I blame myself. You’re the level headed one and I’m the one that needed to get his shit together.” “You shouldn't always paint yourself as the bad guy, because you’re not.” He sighs, looking ahead at the curtain that separates the next bed over from his. She has a point, but it’s something he can’t help doing. He takes a while to respond, scratching his chin as he thinks. Finally, he looks to her again and says, “Why is this entire relationship so complicated?” She gives a weak smile and says, “I don’t know. Maybe we're just two really complicated people. Or maybe because you keep doing this." She gestures to him with her hands. "Doing what?" "Almost dying." "It's pretty much becoming a bad habit now, isn't it? But come on, it's only my leg." "Yeah, but it could've been way worse. Did you know some of the doctors were considering amputation?" "...They were gonna cut my leg off?" "From the knee and below, yeah. But they decided against it. Now they're just hoping you can make a full recovery. But they're not sure." "Oh...so I'm really a cripple now. That's different. Will I get a wheelchair or crutches? If I get a wheelchair will you push me around?" "You're not gonna need the wheelchair forever, you know." "Is that a no?" "It's a maybe." "If you had a busted knee I'd push you around." "Doesn't matter. If you can't walk, you can't force me to push you around." "Oof," he says, putting a hand to his chest and feigning an expression of pain. "That hurt." "That...came out wrong, I didn't mean it that way." "No, no, it's fine. You’ll think less of me just ‘cause I’m a cripple. I get it." He can't keep it in any longer, and he laughs softly, not wanting to disturb the others in the infirmary. "I'm just joking." "Uh huh. I knew it. I’m not that mean; you know I’d think the same about you, no matter what." "Really? Which is how, exactly?" he smirks, and so does she as she realizes this was his plan all along. "Wow, really slick." "I know, right?" "You should teach me your ways." "I would, if you...answer my question." "Do you really want me to?" "Unless it's 'I only want to be friends' and you rip my heart into a million pieces, go for it." She looks nervous, silent, and he realizes he might've made a mistake. "That's what it is, isn't it?" "No, it's not that. I'm just trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound really stupid." She takes a breath, thinks for a few seconds and says, "Okay. The thing is...I've never been, like, 'in love' with somebody. Maybe it's my own fault for being too busy with school or working or whatever, but it always ended up with me being treated like...shit by whoever I was with. And then you come along, and I know, I completely fucked up in the beginning--''completely''--but that was before I knew this Pruitt guy wasn't that bad. And then...I don't know, only seven months fly by, and all this completely crazy shit happens, and then I realize...I'm in love with this Pruitt guy. Weird the way things work out. But all I want is a fresh start. We’re finally finished with Roxie, you’re back...I think we deserve that, at least.” She’s been looking down at her hands the entire time, but when she finishes, she looks up and sees he has a goofy smile on his face. “That might’ve been the cutest thing--” he starts, but she interrupts him. “Pruitt guy--I’m being serious.” “I know, but I...okay, I expected you to say something completely different so I’m kind of...really happy right now. Which feels weird after everything else that happened, you know...but I wanna start over, too. That'd be nice." ---- Lienne sits in the passenger seat of a car as Dre drives along the bumpy road. Two others sit in the back, a couple she assumes, and they're lost in their laughter. A group from the previous day returned to Roxie’s camp to ‘dispose of the rest,’ as Griffin put it in, but found no one there. Not a single living person; only the wreckage of their attack. The travelers now return only to retrieve the few items of value that were left behind. "So..." Dre says, and he turns down the radio that plays one of Lienne’s CDs. It’s a soft, sad song, and he decides he doesn’t like it much anyway. “How’ve you been?” “Fine,” she replies quickly. “Oh. Uh...I’m--I’m talking ‘bout with everything. Mourning...and stuff.” He clears his throat and pulls at his collar. “I know.” “I’m not even good with this stuff. Like the...feelings stuff and losing people and all that. I don’t know why I’m tryin’. Sorry. I’ll shut up.” “It’s ‘cause you’re too nice,” she says. “That’s a good thing.” “Oh. Thank you. I’m not doin’ a good job right now. I probably sound really damn annoying.” There’s a quick pause. “Can I try again?” “Go for it.” “Okay. Uh...I’m not gonna ask you any questions. You’re, uh...not in the talkin’ mood, obviously. Just a little story. Is that okay?” She nods her head, and he clears his throat again. The first thing he does is pull up his right sleeve and turns up his arm, showing her a small tattoo. “See that? It says ‘Breezy.’” “Someone you knew?” she asks. “Yeah. He was just a kid, though. Barely seventeen.” “What happened to him?” “He got shot about two years ago. I knew him before that happened, though--he was a...a friend of a friend. I got him involved in this gang I was messing with. I--I got real close to him. He was a good kid, too, and I feel like I screwed his life up, but I couldn’t take it back. He got too into that gang lifestyle, and...it fucked him up. We were plannin’ to go to my crib that day--when he got shot--but I got the call...and nope. He’s dead. Standin’ on the corner, dudes roll by, guns pointed out the windows...bam." He makes a gun shape with his hand as he mimics the sound of a shot. "Over in a second, just like that.” He coughs, and pulls at his collar again. He lowers his voice as he continues. “What I’m trying to say is I know what it’s like right now, you know, but it gets better. It ain’t gonna feel like it, but it will.” Lienne is quiet for a little while, then the people in the back laugh again, too preoccupied with themselves. “Thanks,” she says finally. “I’ll grow a pair and get over it, don’t worry.” He laughs and taps his fingers on the wheel. “You really are somethin’ else, girl,” he says. “Is something wrong with me?” “No, nope. Lots of good things about you, that’s what I meant.” She laughs at him, and a small smirk forms on her face. “Dre, do you have a crush on me?” she asks. “Oh. You just gonna ask like that? Okay. Then yeah, maybe.” “Oh, God…” Lienne growns, but she can’t help herself from smiling. She shakes her head, then says, “Dre, I’m gay. This isn’t gonna work.” “What?” “Yeah, that’s the usual response. I’ve had this conversation with too many people to count.” Dre sighs and feels his cheeks getting a little warm. “Shit...alright, then. This is awkward as fuck now.” “It doesn’t have to be. I mean...I can set you up with somebody and you’ll forget all about your little crush.” “Nah, I’ll just live in shame forever. It’s cool,” he says, and he forces a smile at her. “Man, this is embarrassing as hell. Christ…” As they continue the drive, following the cars in front of them, he makes an effort to change the topic of conversation, but she makes it her mission to bring it up as often as she can. But it’s just good-natured teasing, which he realizes soon enough, and he’s able to take it in stride. Soon enough, they pull up to Roxie’s camp--or what’s left of it--and exit their car apprehensively. It’s eerily silent, and Lienne feels a quick chill shoot through her. She zips up her jacket up to her neck, and Dre starts to walk toward the entrance. When he sees she’s not by her side, he turns. “You coming?” he asks. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I wanna go in there,” she says. “What’s the problem?” She pauses, then takes a small step toward him. “Okay, I came here thinking I could do everyone else a favor. Everyone’s so stressed or whatever; they don’t wanna come back here after what happened. So I told myself, ‘Hey, it won’t be that bad. Everyone’s gone, we’re just getting some of the leftover stuff.’ But that place is full of...dead people. People we know. Like...now that I’m standing right here, I know the chances of me seeing something really fucked up is really high. And he might be in there--” Just the thought of seeing Alec--dead, mangled, shot, or something else just as terrible--is too much for her to handle, and her voice breaks, cutting off her speech. “Don’t even worry,” he says. “You can stay back, nobody’s gonna care.” She sighs and shakes her head at herself, suddenly believing that what she’s doing is stupid. “...Just forget it. I came this far, I might as well help out. I’m not gonna be selfish about this.” They begin walking with everyone else, heading towards the gates. The scraps of metal and wood that made it up have been moved to the side. “You know you don’t gotta go in there,” he reminds her. “But you ain’t no little bitch.” “That’s what you should probably learn about me,” she jokes, and she forces a smile. ---- Roxie sits in the backseat of a dark, ominous SUV, only two cars trailing them instead of her usual convoy. She stares straight ahead, eyes fixated out the windshield and on the dark road ahead. Two men sit to her left, one man drives, and a dark-haired woman sits in the passenger seat. “Maybe we should, uh...break for the night,” the man driving says a little nervously. He dares to peek back at Roxie through the rearview mirror, and then he flicks his eyes back toward the road when she meets his gaze. He immediately regrets his suggestion. “Keep driving,” Roxie says flatly. “It’s hella dark out here--” “Do you think I’m blind? I can see that.” “Of course not. Sorry, I talk too much.” “...Yeah.” He clears his throat and drives for a few more seconds, until he speaks again. “Can I...say one more thing?” “If it’s the last time I hear your voice today,” she says. “Yeah, sure.” “Then go ahead.” “Uh...where are we going?” “That doesn’t matter. Just keep driving.” Category:Dead Frontier Category:Dead Frontier Issues Category:Issues Category:Walkerbait22's Stories